Attention! I'm going to fucking kill myself and I am seeking some attention. That is all I am seeking. I trust this was sufficiently blatant. This is not going to be posted until the morning. I'm going to be asleep by then. By the time I am awake, the mods will have again gone offline, and anyone who might actually give me attention will have gone to sleep as well. Every night is crushingly lonely. I refuse any attempts people make at making me less lonely, because I'm fucking terrified of everyone. If one day this week I am awake during regular business hours, I will cancel my appointment at the epilepsy clinic. If not, I will simply not go, and I'll be billed $30 or $50 or $100, whatever they charge for missed appointments. I do not give a fuck. I am out of the medication that allows me to sleep and be a pleasant person. When the effects wear off, probably around Wednesday, my life will become immeasurably worse, both internally [since I'm an anxious mess when off it] and externally [since I become a nasty, nasty person]. I do not give a fuck. I still have a few weeks left of Zoloft, but I don't even know if I'm taking that anymore, due to my messed up sleep schedule. I do not give a fuck. I have no contact with any sort of medical professional who can provide me with refills, having quietly vanished from the psychiatric office, cancelled my appointments, and burned my bridges. I do not give a fuck. I want a job, but I'm too scared to get one. I wish I could say I do not give a fuck, but I have my eye on a particular one which I'd really, really like to have, but I'm too much of a pussy to get. I want to get back into gymnastics, but I'm too scared to return. Much the same as the job in that I honestly do give a fuck but am too much of a pussy to do anything about it. Evidently I still do give a fuck about people, 'cause I'm going to withhold from saying something really nasty to a forum member here, and also from cursing someone who is not a forum member and thus would never read it. Give me attention. Tell me I can talk to you anytime, insincerely as usual, and perhaps offer contact information which I'll never use. It won't make me feel any better. It won't make me any less lonely. Who cares.